Tudor Musings Season 1
by Dave-The-Laugh's-NewHotness
Summary: This is my Tudor Musings Season One section. All ratings will be set to 'T' just to be on the safe side, and you can expect spoilers if you haven't seen season one. Most are slightly angst-y  possibly because it's easier to write. Two more now added.
1. An Escort's Desire  1525

This is from the POV of Charles Brandon while he is escorting Margaret to her marriage to the King of Portugal. I didn't realise how much I loved them as a couple until I came to write this oneshot, so I really enjoyed writing this and I hope it shows. Please read and review.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

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><p>She is water to a thirsty man. She in untouched, unspoiled beauty. She is the sacrificial lamb, going to the slaughter. She is forbidden fruit, and I have never been able to resist the temptation when something is forbidden to me. She is the youngest sister of my best friend and childhood playmate. She is the youngest sister of my King. She is the betrothed of the King of Portugal, and yet still she is all I can think of. Her milky white Tudor skin, perfectly contrasting with her Tudor red hair and green eyes.<p>

And she despises me for the part I must play in her sacrifice, for it is surely sacrifice that we are engaging in – a young, elegant and vibrant woman, being married off to an ailing, cantankerous, lustful old King, for the sake of alliances and treaties. I promised her brother that I would treat her as my own sister, and it is only that thought that keeps me from promising her all manner of things which I have no place to be promising. I want to promise her my protection, should she need it. I find myself trying to work up the courage to ask her to elope with me. I would do anything to save her from what she soon must do, but I must play my part in this charade, as though we are all play acting in some great farce. For one of us, though, this farce is real, and will not be forgotten, or shrugged off like a costume. For one woman – possibly the greatest woman of my acquaintance – this charade will see her saying vows to love honour and obey an old man, who she has been sold to for a price.

Because of all these things, I am bitter and angry when I deal with Princess Margaret Tudor, and this causes her to despise me all the more, until she is so furious with me that I can see the sparks dance in her brilliant green eyes, and then the anger and bitterness fade, and all I want to do is clasp her to me and kiss her until every ounce of her fury dissipates into passion. It does me no good to merely leave the room – there are only so many places that you can escape to on a ship, and even if I were able to get far enough away to not be in danger of compromising her, her image follows me wherever I stalk off to, I have discovered.

But one day, when her ailing soon-to-be husband is dead, she will be mine. As she told me during one of our rare peaceful moments, she only agreed to this marriage if she could choose her own husband next time, and marry for love. During our few moments of peace, her playful side comes out, and then all I want to do is grab her hands and dance with her, to see her throw her graceful head back and laugh in that bewitching manner she has.

So I will savour these moments during her marriage, and be on hand to offer her support and protection, if need be, and then when she is free, and I am ordered to escort her home, I will summon all my courage and ask this matchless woman to do me the greatest honour, and consent to marry me.

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><p>Thanks for reading, now please review<p> 


	2. A Sister's Conscience  1530

Not my favourite one to write - for some reason, writing as Margaret was more difficult than anyone else I've written as in this series, but I wanted to have at least one short from her POV, as she was such a large part of Season 1. Please read and review and let me know if this 'worked'.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

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><p>My brother has been bewitched – that is the only explanation for his actions. What else can take an anointed King, God-fearing and good, and turn him into a lusting beast? He is married to one of the most wonderful women in Christendom, and he is going to cast her aside for a knight's daughter from Kent. Nan Bullen will never be queen, not after Katherine of Aragon, daughter of Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castille. Royal blood on both sides and my brother tries to have his marriage to her declared invalid.<p>

That whore will never be queen; England will not stand for it. This is a good, God-fearing nation, and Nan Bullen, scandal of Christendom, will never be accepted, no matter how many 'legitimate' sons she promises my brother. After everything that Henry put Charles and I through when we married – he threatened to make my husband shorter by a head – at least Charles is a Duke, and one of my brother's oldest friends. And, despite what Charles and I are to each other now, despite how we torment each other with our anger, bitterness and frustration, we love each other, truly. I never doubt that while Charles may take his pleasure in the arms of other women, his heart will belong to me. I doubt that whore even knows what love truly is, other than love of money, or love for that sodomite brother of hers.

I thought, in my youth, that I had a relationship with my brother unlike most siblings; we talked of many subjects together, and I would often go to him with my problems, and fears. But if I speak of my hatred for his new wench to him, I will find myself banished from court, at the very least. My husband would still have to remain at court, and dance attendance on my brother and Nan Bullen – Anne Boleyn, as she is styling herself now - while I waste away in a Suffolk manor, away from court and the hustle bustle of life. In these circumstances, Charles would without a doubt take a mistress from among the hordes of ladies-in-waiting, and I could do nothing about it. I feel as though whatever choice I make, I shall pay a high penalty. If I say nothing of my worries to my brother, I will be betraying a dear friend of mine, and betraying my conscience as well. If I speak of my fears to Henry, my beloved brother and my sovereign King, I will lose my place at court, lose the love of my husband, and lose the love of my brother. But I would have a clear conscience, and Henry has always forgiven me before.

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><p>This one if rather short, and it did feel a little repetitive - maybe I'm being over-analytical? Please review, positive or negative.<p> 


	3. A Mother's Example  1530

Another in my Tudor musings series, this one from the POV of Katherine of Aragon, circa 1530. As always, I own nothing; please read and review.

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><p>Since I was three years old, I have been destined to be Queen of this strange, barbaric country. I have always known that this is what God intended for me – to first, be Princess of Wales, then Queen of England, wife to King Arthur, and mother of a whole nursery of princes, the image of my royal husband, to make him proud. I was born to two of the greatest rulers and warriors Europe had ever seen. The great union of Ferdinand of Aragon and Isabella of Castille was famed, far and wide. These were my role models; they trained me for the life I was destined to lead. Without their training, I would never have negotiated the murky and dangerous waters of old King Henry's court when my husband died. Without the early years spent on the battlefields of Spain, I would never have led my husband's army to victory against the Scots. And without their devoutness, I never would have survived the pain of losing my children, every child but one.<p>

And now, now that I am no longer able to bear my husband, King Henry, ruler of England, the male heir he needs to secure the Tudor line, I am to be cast aside for a dark eyed whore who is the scandal of Christendom. It is known that husbands often take mistresses and Kings even more so. I expected this, and so I was able to turn a blind eye when my beloved husband took other women to his bed, preferring their company over mine. I did not react like my sister, who gave into the blackness within her soul. I simply allowed him to take his pleasures elsewhere, and welcomed him lovingly and without reproach when he returned to me, as he always did so.

But Mistress Boleyn is different. She will not allow the King to bed her, as she wished to stay pure for her husband. Though, if court gossip is to be believed, wanting to stay pure for her husband did not prevent her from being intimate with Henry Percy.

And so the King, who was once named 'Defender of the Faith' by the Pope, is looking to tear this country, my beloved adopted country, from the protection of Rome, the Pope and ultimately from God, all so he can divorce me, his one true wife. He wishes to cast me aside, after more than 15 years of marriage, to marry his whore. But I will not allow them, the pair of them, plotting and scheming, to do this easily. Henry thinks that because I have always been dutiful, obedient Kate, his childhood sweetheart, I will simply retire to an abbey somewhere. But I will not. I have our daughter to consider. Our one surviving child and the joy at the centre of my being. For her sake, I will endure everything that Henry and Anne put me through. I saw my beloved mother fight countless battles against the Moors, and win, and so I, in turn, will give Mary an example to follow.

One day, when she is Queen, as is her destiny, as it was mine, she will face some difficulty, some battle which must be fought and won. And in that moment, she will remember me, and she will fight that battle with all the spirit of her mother, and all the strength of her grandmother. This will be my daughter's hour, my mother's legacy passed down to my daughter, and my revenge on the children of Anne Boleyn.


	4. A Traitor's Final Act 1530

Another one from Season One, this will (probably) be my last season one Tudor Musing. This is from the perspective of Thomas Wolsey as he travels to London where he will await trial. This borrows a little from Anne of the Thousand Days as well as The Tudors. Please read and review.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

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><p>I thought that I'd crushed her. I thought that I had taken that little upstart's dreams into my hands, and squashed them as though they were gnats, inconsequential day dreams of the child of a minor nobleman. I was wrong.<p>

I should have let her marry Henry Percy. Though he was the heir to an Earldom, now an Earl in his own right, and she was only the second daughter of Thomas Boleyn, I should have used my influence to change the King's mind, and let the two young pups marry. After all, who am I, Thomas Wolsey, to criticise anyone for ambition? My father was just a butcher, and yet look how high I rose; no one knows better than I that ambition and sheer determination will get you as far, if not further, than money or power? And yet I forgot my humble background, I only thought of my current position – Archbishop of York, Chancellor and member of the Privy Council.

Because I thwarted Anne Boleyn's plans and broke her betrothal so that the King could bed her, I am undone myself. She swore she would be revenged on me, and she has been. Henry no longer seeks my counsel or advice; every time I go to him for our supposedly private meetings, she is there, tempering all my advice with her own cynical observations. I underestimated her, and now I am en route to London, where I will stand trial for treason. Henry has forsaken me, as I was unable to give him what he wanted. The first time I have failed him, and it will be the last. This will be my last 'progress', and it is not a royal progress, but one of a traitor. My escort is the very same heir to an Earldom who I threatened to have whipped like a kitchen boy for impertinence, whose heart I broke when I sent for his father to break up a betrothal between two young people in love. Married to Mary Talbot, who hates him, he has aged much more than his sometime sweetheart. Now, Henry Percy, current Earl of Northumberland, looks like a man in his 50s, despite not yet being 30; his health is bad, the skin around his eyes looks bruised from lack of sleep, but it is the eyes themselves which haunt me as I lie awake at night. Eyes that once looked upon the world with joy and optimism now only contain bitterness and pain.

I did this to him, so I must deserve all I will get. But still I am fearful of what awaits me in London – Henry in a rage is a fearful sight, and now that he, like the lion, knows his own strength and power, he will be unstoppable. Though it is cowardly, I find that I do not have the courage to face my final test; nor do I have the desire to give Mistress Boleyn the satisfaction of seeing me executed like a common criminal for treason. Thus, I will take the coward's way out, though it is forbidden under church law. I forsook God's law a long time ago, though, so perhaps this will be a fitting end.

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><p>Thanks for reading, now please review - constructive criticism is always appreciated.<p> 


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